Make Your Own Luck
by Fanfic Allergy
Summary: Peeta always knew he'd meet his soulmate in the Hunger Games. So he planned for it. He planned for everything. Except for who his soulmate was.


_Disclaimer: The Hunger Games Trilogy is property of Suzanne Collins. This is a parody fanwork by fans for fans. No money was made off of the creation of this fanwork._

 **Make Your Own Luck**  
 ** _by FanficAllergy and RoseFyre_**

 **oOo**

Peeta Mellark wasn't born with his words.

When he was about six months old, his words appeared in blocky forest green letters on the top of his left foot, reading * _All right. I can send one of the Capitol people to help you._ *

He didn't really understand what that meant until his father told him. He was five years old. It was the first day of school. And he'd just announced that, when he was old enough, he was going to marry Katniss Everdeen.

His mother lost it, bursting into tears.

"You'll never marry that Everdeen girl!" Her voice broke on Katniss's last name. She dashed at her cheeks angrily. "You'll never marry anyone! Ever!"

Peeta felt his lower lip start to quiver.

"Prissy…" his father tried, "he's just a boy. We don't need to do this now."

"No, Jaffa! I'm not going to lie to him!"

"Now's not the right time!"

"Momma? Poppa?" Peeta's brother Pan asked, his eyes wide.

"You boys go to your room," his mother ordered. "Take your bread and go!"

"I thought we weren't supposed to eat…" Bannock, the eldest, protested.

"I said go!"

They went.

The three of them could hear their parents arguing downstairs.

"What'd you do, Peeta?" Pan asked.

The little boy shook his head. He had no idea why his Mommy would be so upset or why his Dad seemed shaken.

That night, after both of his brothers had fallen asleep, Peeta's father sat him down and explained the significance of his words. "The only reason you'd ever meet a Capitol person," he'd said, "is if you were in the Hunger Games." There was a sadness in his father's voice which confused Peeta.

"But aren't the Games a good thing?"

"That's what the Capitol says. All I know is it's been a long time since we've had anyone come home from them."

"I'll come home," Peeta said with all of the certainty that a five year old can muster.

His father pulled him into a smothering hug. "I hope so, Peet," he murmured against his son's pale curls. He drew back, looking down at the little boy. "But I'm afraid if you do, that means your soulmate won't."

"What do you mean, Dad?"

"Just… it sounds like the first time you meet them, they're there with you."

The solution seemed simple to Peeta. "So we both win!"

"That's not how the Games work, son. Twenty four people enter the Arena, only one leaves."

"It's not fair!" Peeta exclaimed, feeling tears well up in his eyes.

"No, it's not. But there's nothing we can do about it."

 **oOo**

It was hard growing up with a death sentence.

His mother, never the warmest person to begin with, made an extra effort not to care about her youngest son. She didn't always succeed. He'd sometimes catch her watching him with an expression of sorrow on her features. Peeta assumed she stayed away because she didn't want to grow attached. He supposed he could understand.

It still hurt.

Unfortunately, her behavior spilled over to his brothers. Pan and Bannock followed their mother's lead, keeping their distance from Peeta, never including him in their play. Only his father showed him any affection, and even that was guarded. He knew his son was going into the Games. The question was not if, but when.

Peeta tried to live what little life he had to the fullest.

Knowing that he was going to die before age nineteen was kind of freeing. He didn't have to worry about making friends or getting good grades. He could focus his time and energy on the things he liked, like art. Or watching Katniss Everdeen from afar.

Even after his mother's proclamation, he still loved her. He didn't think he'd ever be able to stop. Loving Katniss Everdeen was as essential to him as breathing.

He thought about talking to her several times, but decided never to do it. What if they became friends? What if they fell in love? He was going to die. He didn't have the heart to subject her to that, not when she was so happy, not when she had everything to live for.

It was better to love her from afar.

He wondered sometimes what her words were, if she had any. Soulmates were rare in Panem. If his words didn't come with a death sentence, Peeta would've been happy to have them.

So he just watched her covertly, hoping that whoever married her knew just how amazing she really was.

 **oOo**

When he was nine, Peeta cornered Haymitch Abernathy, bribing him with some of his family's special fruitcake rum. "You won the Hunger Games."

Haymitch eyed the alcohol before taking a swig. "That's what they tell me."

"How?"

"I was the last tribute left alive at the end."

"I know that," Peeta said, snatching the bottle back. "How come you were the last one left alive?"

Narrowing his eyes at the boy, Haymitch stated, "Got lucky."

"So how do you get lucky?"

"You make your own luck."

"You know, you're not very helpful," Peeta told the man.

Haymitch snorted. "That's what my escort tells me. Pain in the ass." He blinked at Peeta. "What's it to ya, kid?"

Peeta didn't bother answering, at least not in words. Untying his shoes, he pulled off his socks and shoes, revealing the words etched in green on his skin.

Haymitch let out a low whistle. "Damn, kid. That's some shitty ass luck right there."

"Tell me about it."

"Any idea who 'I'll get the Capitol' is?"

"No idea," Peeta answered, putting his shoes back on, double-knotting them out of habit. His father had taught him very early never to let his shoes come loose. "Just that they're around the same age as me."

"Yeah, that's not helpful." Haymitch held his hands out for the rum. "So what're you gonna do about it?"

"I don't know," Peeta replied, giving him back the bottle. "Make sure they win."

Taking a deep swallow, Haymitch grunted, "That's noble of you, boy."

"Not so much noble as selfish," Peeta admitted. "I don't think I could live knowing that I let my soulmate die."

"I hear ya." The Victor rubbed at the back of his neck.

Peeta tilted his head in curiosity, but the man refused to elaborate, steering the conversation very obviously away from the subject. Peeta let him.

"So what do you want me to do about that? I assume you're plying me with your purloined spirits for a reason."

"I want you to train me," Peeta said, mustering all of the authority a nine year old could.

"That's illegal."

"They do it in the other districts, there's no way that fourteen year old kid coulda won unless he'd been trained!"

"Not disagreeing with ya." He belched. "I'm just tellin' you the law."

"Screw the law!"

Haymitch chuckled. "I like you, kid. You've got spunk. Alright. Stop by after school. Tell your parents you've got a job runnin' errands for me. Not gonna be that far off from the truth. I'm gonna run you ragged, boy." He looked at the nine-year-old, assessing him. "Are you ready?"

"I was born ready."

Haymitch just rolled his eyes.

 **oOo**

Haymitch was telling the truth when he said he was going to be a tough taskmaster. The Victor didn't accept any excuses and complaints were met with even more work.

Peeta spent his time doing the stupidest of things, like running back and forth to the Hob. Literally running. The man said it was to build up his endurance, but Peeta secretly thought the Victor's insistence on haste had more to do with the alcohol he brought back than any specified training regimen.

He also enrolled Peeta in his school's wrestling team. Pan was already on it and didn't much like his little brother stealing his thunder. The two quickly became rivals, and their antagonism even spilled over at home.

His parents didn't do anything to stop it. Which meant that Peeta often came to school or training sporting bruises courtesy of one Pan Mellark.

Eventually, he began to see a method to the old drunk's madness. After several weeks of training, he began to notice that he was faster, leaner, stronger than many of the other boys in the district.

Unfortunately, he wasn't taller. Genetics were not on his side for that one. Both of his parents were short and stocky, which meant Peeta was too. Normally he wouldn't mind, but he saw what kinds of tributes the Capitol favored. They liked their males tall, strong, and handsome. And Peeta knew he only had one out of the three.

It would be okay, he told himself. He didn't need to be tall and handsome.

Thanks to Haymitch Abernathy and his training, Peeta Mellark was going to make his own luck.

 **oOo**

The one nice thing about living with a death sentence: it meant Peeta felt more free to do the kinds of things he wanted. And if that meant he could burn two loaves of bread and toss them to the girl he'd been in love with for almost seven years, then by gum, he was going to do that. Yeah, his mother hit him. But it was worth it.

Even knowing Katniss probably wasn't his soulmate did not mean he didn't love her. He knew from his father that you could love more than one person in your life, so until he met * _All right. I can send one of the Capitol people to help you._ * he was free to love who he wanted, how he wanted.

Katniss never said anything to him. She never did.

The next morning, at school, he thought she might. He held his breath, wondering just what her first words to him would be, knowing that they wouldn't match the green blocky writing on his skin. But then she looked away and bent down to pick a bright yellow dandelion poking up through the stone.

Peeta let out a sigh of relief. So long as she never said anything to him, he'd continue to dream she was the one. That she had his words on her skin.

He shook himself. What kind of horrible person was he, to wish that? Everyone knew the Games were a death sentence.

Even him.

 **oOo**

A couple days before his first Reaping, Haymitch pulled him off to one side. "Now, I don't think Trinket's gonna pull your name, but just in case. You don't know me. We never met. Got it?"

It made sense. Haymitch could get in trouble for helping him.

"I understand," he said.

"Good."

"What about after the Games?"

The Victor took a swig of white liquor. "What about 'em?"

"Are you still gonna train me?"

"You still gonna die?"

"All men die," Peeta replied, rolling his eyes. "Just looks like I'm gonna go a little sooner than others."

"That's up to you, kid. I'll see you after the Games," he said. "I hope."

"I hope so too."

 **oOo**

Peeta wasn't Reaped that year.

Or the year after.

Or the year after that.

So he kept training with Haymitch, becoming proficient with a knife and even learning how to wield a short sword and machete.

When he asked why he was learning other weapons, Haymitch told him, "You never know what's gonna be right in front of you. Knives and swords are the most common, but what're you gonna do if you end up with a spiked mace?" he asked, referring to that year's Arena. "You need to be able to think on your toes and handle pretty much anything thrown at ya."

"When are you gonna teach me how to survive?" Peeta asked, grumbling.

Haymitch gave him a bland look. "So you're plannin' on comin' back, are you?"

Peeta glanced away, making little swirls in the dust on Haymitch's floor with his feet. "Well… no. Not really."

"Then I don't see much of a point. Moving silently, finding water, hunting game, that's not you, boy," the Victor explained. "For all we know, that soulmate of yours is a Career. What you really need to do is hold your own, but not stand out too much. The last thing you want is to get a score over ten. That'll paint a target on your back as sure as getting a three would."

He supposed Haymitch had a point.

 **oOo**

Another year went by and he still wasn't Reaped.

He wondered if everyone was wrong. He only had three more years to go. Maybe his mark didn't mean he was going into the Games. Maybe it meant something else.

The year after that changed everything.

First was the uproar when twelve year old Primrose Everdeen was Reaped and her older sister took her place.

Peeta's heart started beating in his chest, out of both excitement and fear.

Was this the year?

Part of him hoped it was.

He got his answer a few moments later.

When Effie Trinket called his name, Peeta was unable to keep the shock off of his face. He'd always hoped Katniss Everdeen would be his soulmate, and now it seemed to be much more likely.

He glanced at Haymitch's prone body. He was pretty sure the older man knew this was his year, and so feigned the drunken antics so he could hide his reaction to Peeta's name. Haymitch knew his love for the eldest Everdeen daughter. It came up a time or two, with Haymitch cautioning him not to do anything too overt. Considering he was likely going to sacrifice himself in one of the coming Games, he didn't want the Capitol's retribution to affect more people than just his immediate family.

If he were a different person, Peeta would've felt bad about sacrificing his family like that, but they wrote him off long ago. Even his father refused to care too much, showering most of his affection on his eldest brother Bannock.

Now he was kind of glad he'd kept his distance.

He and Katniss managed to make it through their obligatory handshakes without saying a word.

When his family came to visit, Pan took a step forward. "I'm sorry," he said.

Peeta just looked at him. "Why?"

"I didn't volunteer for you, not like Katniss."

"Yeah." He wondered where his brother was going with this.

"But maybe I should've. That's what big brothers do, right?"

"Maybe." Peeta shrugged. "But we don't. Don't worry about it. I never expected you to volunteer for me."

"Um, so, good luck? I mean, that's what you're supposed to say when someone goes to the Games, right?" Pan asked, looking around for confirmation.

Bannock shrugged. "I don't know. I've never known anybody who's gone into the Games."

"Well isn't this just maudlin?" his mother said. "Just do your best and…" Her features softened. "That girl's a fighter. Maybe we'll have a Victor this year." She reached out to clasp Peeta's hands. "You'll make sure of it, won't you?"

Peeta nodded his head, understanding what his mother was trying to say. "If she's the one, yeah. I'll make sure of it."

"You're a good boy, Peeta," she said, hugging him tight. "Always have been."

 **oOo**

Peeta wondered if Katniss would say his words. They managed to make it through the car ride, dinner, and the discussion with Effie without saying anything to each other. Then they sat through the other Reapings in silence.

Peeta watched them intently, wondering if any of the people on the screen were his soulmate. He immediately eliminated all of the Careers. All of them were too old. In a way, that made him feel better. He wasn't sure what he'd do if his soulmate came from District One or, heaven forbid, Two. District Eleven also wasn't possible, the girl couldn't be more than twelve. In fact, the only possible contenders other than Katniss were the girls from Districts Five and Eight. Everyone else was either too young or too old.

When the Reapings were over, he looked over at Katniss, wondering if he should say something. But Effie spoke before he could, disparaging their mentor's performance at the Reaping.

He was surprised to hear Katniss speak up in Haymitch's defense. Not that Haymitch did anything to really deserve it. Especially not when he staggered into the room and threw up all over the place, passing out in his own mess.

Effie stormed off, leaving Katniss and Peeta to take care of their mentor. They managed to manhandle him back to his quarters, eventually shoving him into the shower to clean off the vomit.

Peeta's eyes met Katniss's. He could tell she was uncomfortable, that she wanted to go.

This was it. This was the moment.

He opened his mouth and said, "It's okay. I'll take it from here."

Katniss's eyes flew to his. She took a step back. In a dazed tone, she said, "All right. I can send one of the Capitol people to help you."

Those were the words. His words. Peeta surged to his feet, cupping her face. "It's you. I hoped and feared at the same time, but it's you. You're her. You're the one."

"No. No, this can't be possible!" Katniss said, shaking her head. "It wasn't supposed to happen this way!"

"I'm sorry," Peeta said. He wasn't upset. Not with her. She didn't have a lifetime of preparation for this. Her words could have happened at any time. While he always knew when he'd meet his soulmate, she didn't. "I can prove it to you if you want." Sitting down on Haymitch's bed, Peeta quickly took off his shoe, fumbling a bit with his usual double knot. He held his foot up so she could see.

She took a step forward, her soft fingers tracing the dark green words written there. He watched as denial turned to acceptance. Slowly, she lowered his foot back down to the ground and reached out to stroke his face.

"Can I… can I see your words?"

She blushed, but nodded her head. "Not here. It's kind of private."

Peeta felt a thrill go through him at her words. He wondered if they were across her breasts or maybe on her inner thigh. He felt himself become hard at the thought.

She held out her hand to him.

He took it quickly, wrapping his much larger hand around hers.

Hands entwined, they made their way to his quarters. There, she carefully removed the pants she was wearing. Then she unbuttoned the dark green shirt she had on, the same color as his words, allowing it to slip from her shoulders.

His eyes scanned her skin, looking for any hint of her words. He didn't see any. He looked up at her in confusion. There wasn't much left to reveal.

Once again, she blushed. She pulled her camisole off over her head, leaving her clad only in her underwear. The words weren't over her breasts and he couldn't see anything on her inner thigh. That left very little. There were only two options where they could be.

He swallowed thickly. "Katniss, you don't have to do this."

"Yes I do," she said. "My parents were soulmates. They were happy together. When I was born with a soulmark, my parents were ecstatic. They wanted me to be as happy as they were."

"Does your sister have a soulmark?"

Katniss nodded her head. "Yeah. Gale. Although I don't think she actually likes having * _Your cat shit in my shoes!_ * as her soulmark."

They shared a laugh at that.

"They're waiting for her to finish going through the Reapings. Gale's so much older than her, it wouldn't be right right now."

Peeta had to ask. "So you and Gale?"

Katniss shook her head. "I was waiting for you."

"I'm here."

"Yeah." She took a deep breath and pulled the panties down. Over the top of her mound in dusky sunset orange were the words he'd said to her just a few minutes before.

"Can I - can I touch them?" he asked, his hand itching to caress her skin.

Katniss nodded.

Gently, he ran his fingers over his slanted script, marveling aloud, "They're even in my favorite color."

"Mine too," Katniss said. "Yours are, I mean."

"So green, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So that's something else we know about each other." Reluctantly he pulled his hand away. He wanted to run his fingers over her skin. Explore. Taste. Touch. But he didn't want to pressure her. "So now what?"

She stepped forward, pulling his head down to hers. "Now we make the most of the time we have left."

 **oOo**

The following morning, they cornered Haymitch at breakfast.

"She's it," Peeta said without preamble. "She's the one."

"Well shit. Ain't that a predicament? I was hoping you were wrong, boy."

Peeta looked over at Katniss and smiled, thinking about what had happened the night before. "I'm not."

"Well, which one of you am I gonna try to save?" Haymitch asked without any preamble.

"Peeta."

"Katniss."

Katniss glared at Peeta.

"The plan hasn't changed, Haymitch," Peeta told him. "We save Katniss. There's no way I could live with myself if I came home and you didn't."

"How do you think I feel?" Katniss countered.

"Please, Katniss. I've loved you since I was five years old."

"What?"

"First day of school. You got up and sang, remember?"

"Yeah, vaguely."

"It was the Valley Song. The teacher asked if anybody knew it, and you raised your hand." He could recall that day perfectly. It was one of his favorite memories. "I remember you standing up in your red checked dress, singing with all your heart. Why, even the birds outside stopped to listen. I knew then that I was a goner. I was afraid my soulmate would never match up to you, and now I learn that she is you. There's no way I'm going to let you go now."

Peeta reached out and ran his hand over her lower stomach. "Besides, who knows?" They weren't careful last night, and Peeta really had no intention of being careful. They had nothing to lose. And if Katniss managed to survive with his baby in her belly, it was the best of all possible options.

"Just because I haven't been in love with you since I was five doesn't mean I haven't been in love with you for a long time!" She put her hand on her mouth, gasping, as if the words shocked her.

Haymitch set his glass down with a loud clink. "What do you mean, girl?"

"That day. In the rain," she answered, her eyes meeting Peeta's. "When you threw me the bread. No one had been kind to me like that before. And then the next day, when I saw you in the courtyard. Right in front of you was a dandelion. And that's when I realized that my family wasn't gonna starve. That we could make it. You gave me hope, Peeta. You. I'm not gonna let them take my hope away."

Peeta couldn't help himself. He leaned over and kissed her.

She threw her arms around him, like she was afraid he was going to slip away.

"Well ain't this a pile of soap opera crap," Haymitch interjected.

Reluctantly, the two teens separated.

"I don't think I've ever seen anything quite as mushy in my life. You two should become writers for some of those Capitol dramas…" Haymitch's voice trailed off. "Now that's an idea."

"What are you talking about?" Katniss demanded, slipping her hand into Peeta's.

Their mentor watched them with amusement. "If there's one thing the Capitol loves more than the blood and gore of the Hunger Games, it's a happy ending. We set up the story, we put the pieces in motion, and then we make them demand that you two get your happy ending."

"Are you saying that we both could win?"

Haymitch shook his head. "I'm sayin' that we turn this into a movie with you two as the stars."

 **oOo**

Haymitch was as good as his word. Starting from the moment they pulled into the Capitol, Katniss and Peeta were pressed to the train windows, both waving at the cheering crowds.

At the remake center, Portia told him that she and her partner Cinna had created stunning memorable parade outfits for the two of them. They were going to be coals on fire. And the two of them would be the lovers enflamed by their passion.

It worked.

The Capitol bought into it.

During training, Haymitch counseled them to stick together, never deviating from each other's sides. They needed to play up their refusal to be separated, make it impossible to ignore.

When Peeta proposed the option of ingratiating himself with the Careers, Haymitch shot him down. "You don't want them for an alliance. They'll turn on you over the slightest provocation. No. Think about gettin' others. But in the end, remember: it's about you two. You wanna come home? Make sure the Capitol has no choice. It's either both of you or no one at all."

The two followed their mentor's advice, hiding their skills during training until the final private session with the Gamemakers. When their scores were announced, Peeta was happy with his solid score of eight, high enough to get sponsors, but not so high as to be a target.

Unfortunately, Katniss wasn't so lucky.

"An eleven?" Haymitch exclaimed.

"That's good, right?" Katniss seemed uncertain.

"Sure, if you don't mind wearin' a big red and white target on your chest. What'd you do to piss 'em off?"

"I kind of shot an arrow at them?" she answered. "Well, not at them. At the pig they were eating. But they just wouldn't pay attention to me!"

"Trust me, honey. They were paying attention."

"They were after she shot the arrow." Peeta chuckled.

The man glared at him. "You're not helping."

"Haymitch, think about it this way," Peeta said, trying to assuage his mentor. "If we both had the exact same score, people would think it was rigged. This way, they'll be clawing hand over fist to sponsor Katniss. She's the frontrunner."

"And that means you two had better run." He took a drink. "I'd hoped that you guys might be able to grab a thing or two near the Cornucopia before you had to split, but now that Merida Tell here had to go and shoot that damned arrow, you guys'll be lucky not to end up with a knife in your back courtesy of the girl from Two."

Katniss gaped at him. "How did you know-"

Haymitch cut her off. "I got my sources. This is gonna require some careful planning. How good are you at acting, sweetheart?"

She made a face. "I'm not. Never saw the point."

"Okay. How are you at lyin'?"

She looked down.

Peeta answered for her. "She's the most honest person I know."

"Now, that's a problem." The man drained his glass. "Right. So this is how it's gonna go. Sweetheart, you're gonna spend tomorrow workin' with Effie. Listen to her. She might be a flighty busybody, but she knows the Capitol. She is the Capitol. If you can make Effie like you, you can make these morons like you." He poured himself another drink. "And you, boy, we've got some planning to do."

"Shouldn't it be all three of us?" Katniss wanted to know.

Haymitch shook his head. "You already know too much."

"It'll be okay, Katniss," Peeta said. "We'll get through this. Together."

 **oOo**

The backstage of Caesar's studio was a madhouse. All of the stylists and their prep teams were running willy nilly everywhere, adding last minute touches to each tribute's appearance.

All of them except Portia and Cinna.

Katniss and Peeta were dressed in complementary outfits: she as the flame, he as the coal that fueled it. They were stunning. The crowd would adore the costumes. Now they just needed to make the Capitol adore them.

Right before they went up on stage, Haymitch gave Katniss one last bit of advice. "Follow Caesar's lead. He genuinely wants each tribute to do well. It reflects well on him. So let him guide you. Just answer his questions honestly, and for fuck's sake just try to smile every once in a while."

"I'll try. I don't have much to smile about."

Peeta took her face in his hands.

"Makeup!" Effie shrieked.

"I'll fix it later," Cinna said. "I think this is more important."

Peeta smiled at the two before turning his attention back to his soulmate. "If you have trouble smiling, just think of that night on the train. And every night since. You and me together. That always makes me smile."

He watched the blush rise up Katniss's neck and cheeks, but a small soft smile floated across her lips.

He bent down to kiss her. "That's it. Just like that. I'll be right beside you the whole way. If you need anything, just look for me, and I'll be there."

Katniss's interview went better than any of them expected. Caesar naturally focused in on Katniss's unprecedented volunteering for her sister before turning to her incredible training score. She managed to deflect the conversation, but charmingly, getting some applause for her deviousness.

Unfortunately, she didn't come off as memorable. Not even Cinna's amazing dress could do that.

So it was up to him.

But that was okay.

Peeta always knew it was always going to be up to him. He and Haymitch were ready, and Peeta easily steered Caesar in the direction he wanted the conversation to go.

When Caesar finally asked the question he was waiting for, Peeta pounced.

"Is there anyone special for you back home?"

"Well, there is this girl who I've been in love with for what seems like forever. But I don't think she knew I existed until the Reaping."

"But whyever not?" Caesar asked. "You're a handsome strong boy, with that training score of eight."

Peeta shook his head, smiling ruefully. "That's partially my fault, Caesar. You see, I have a soulmate. And I've always known I'd meet my soulmate here in the Games."

"Well well well, that is a twist! So," the blue-haired host leaned forward, "all of Panem is wondering. Have you met her?"

Careful not to give too much away, Peeta replied, "Yes, Caesar, I have. Fate's sure got a sense of humor. The girl I've been in love with forever is also my soulmate. We finally talked the day of the Reaping."

"And?"

Peeta turned to look at Katniss. "She's the same girl who came here with me."

Caesar gasped. "That is bad luck!"

A man off-stage dressed all in black started pointing frantically at his wrist.

"Well, unfortunately that's all the time we have!" Caesar said, his voice filled with regret. "I wish you the best of luck, Peeta Mellark, Katniss Everdeen," he said, looking at the two teens, his eyes sympathetic. "Happy Hunger Games, and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

 **oOo**

 **AN:  
Written: **11/2/15  
 **Revised:** 11/3/15

This was written for our amazing beta-reader and friend, Amelinazenitram. Who is willing to be tough as nails with us even if we don't take all of her suggestions. LOL.

So did you realize that Katniss and Peeta don't actually talk in canon until the scene we cited? Those words are literally the first words they say to each other in the books. You can argue that they talked in school or when they shook hands. But in canon the first words they say to each other are about how to deal with drunk-ass Haymitch. So we went with that.

Then we messed with canon… because dude… finding your soulmate? That's gonna change things. Yes, Katniss and Peeta totally had sex. Lots and lots of sex. Because seriously… what do they have to lose?

Yes, we like playing around with the whole soulmate concept… however did you guess?

The whole your soulmate's first words being written on your skin was originated by Amusewithaview in the Marvel Cinematic Universe. If you like MCU fics, go read hers. They are awesome.

Thanks for reading!


End file.
